|
|
Directed by Written by Starring Rated R Presented by 93 minutes |
 |
||
 |
||||
|
RAMBO Review
Well, twenty years after helping form the Taliban, John Rambo, Viet Nam veteran, returns to the movie screens. Worth the wait? I dunno…. Let us recap: FIRST BLOOD was and is an important American movie, dealing with ongoing problem of what America does with its soldiers returning home and attempting to assimilate back into society. RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART 2 was and is an extremely well done Action movie. Despite its ridiculous politics, the film stands as the best Tarzan film never made. RAMBO 3 is a wholly dispensable, boring pile that is redeemed only by its unintentional comedy (Sly picking up a dead sheep on horseback in slow motion or Trautman’s dialogue with his Soviet captors: “Where are the missiles?” “They’re in your ass.”) RAMBO begins with a montage of recent Burmese atrocities in an attempt to legitimize the following CGI bloodbath to follow. This is not your Dad’s Rambo, but a CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST-inspired celebration of cinematic gore. Unfortunately, nearly all of the squibs, dummies and stunts are “enhanced” with CGI blood splats, etc. as too render them not visceral, but cartoon-like. The one-dimensional “victims in distress” this time are a hopelessly naïve band of missionaries visiting a village in Burma. Of course they are captured by Burmese soldiers and tortured. One memorable punishment will remind us of Marc Lawrence’s underrated “Pigs” in its execution. Anyway, Rambo must assist a group of mercenaries hired by the White Shadow himself, Ken Howard. As Rambo forges his new weapon for battle (a Deodato-style “Cut and Run” machete) a hilarious monologue plays, with Rambo doing a Daily Affirmation: “You know what you are, God made you, You are a fucking KILLING MACHINE!” So, along with his trusty bow and arrows, Rambo single-handedly saves most of the Missionaries and mercenaries. Look, you’ve got to respect the commitment and over-all mania of Sylvester Stallone, but trotting out Rambo is a questionable enterprise. Much of the fun of the earlier films was watching Sly move in a lethal, yet graceful, almost Bruce Lee way. Time has removed that simple pleasure and now one is reminded of the Frankenstein Monster watching Rambo traipse through the jungles. Indeed, at some points, he resembles a walking bag of Restalyne or a puffy, smoked sausage. And to beat a dead horse, during the way-over computerized battle scenes, one remembers how much more effective the climax of “Soldier Blue” was or various Sam Peckinpah screen battles. In the film’s coda (a deliberate restaging of the opening shots of “First Blood”) Rambo returns to Bowie, Arizona to his father’s ranch. As he walks down the long road (“It’s a long road…”) and the end credits roll, one is left to ponder the notion that this KILLING MACHINE is about to commit his ultimate vengeance upon R. Rambo: patricide. VanBebber’s Rating – 3 machetes out of 5
|
HOME
BLOGS
|
|||
